


Soul-Mark

by PaigeRhiann



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek is a grumpy cat, Destiny, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, Isaac is a puppy, M/M, Pack Feels, Pining, Scott is really innocent, Slash, Soul-Mark, Soul-bond, Soulmates, a little bit of self-harm but not really, birthdays - hurray!, derek can be a dick, everyone loves a good birthday!, ft. the Loft, kinda set after S2 but I ignored the story line a little bit :D, so much pining, sterek, stiles is sad, tattoos... sort of, these tags are really out of control now, who looks great in a leather jacket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeRhiann/pseuds/PaigeRhiann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His wolf purrs happily because it has taken eighteen years and getting his family killed to finally discover the name of his promised.  The person he’s destined to be with.  Or, as Werewolves call it – Mate.</p><p>“Genim S.” He repeats</p><p>“That’s a really fucking weird name” Laura snorts, turning back to the movie.</p><p>“Yeah, it is” he nods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul-Mark

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :D  
> let me know if there are any mistakes or whatever, I really couldn't be bothered to Beta my own work tonight.  
> Hope you like it!
> 
> SPECIAL SURPRISE IN THE NOTES AT THE END!!

When Derek finally turns eighteen, he’s in New York with Laura.  Its two months after their family died and they’re sat on the sofa of their tiny apartment, watching The Lion King; it’s a tradition between them, the night before Derek’s birthday they’d huddle up in his bed and watch The Lion King.  Except now, there’s no Cora.

They’re sat in stony silence as Simba cries next to his Father’s dead body.  In the apartment above them, a loud clock chimes.

Midnight.

His wrist burns, he hisses.

“Happy birthday” Laura mumbles but Derek barely hears her because he’s too busy watching his wrist as scratchy black letters ink themselves into his skin.  Derek continues to stare at it long after the pain has gone because _what the hell does that even say?_

“What’s it say?” Laura asks, her voice raising slightly with interest.

“I have absolutely no idea” he admits.

She peers over and her eyebrows go up.  “What the hell? Someone _really_ needs to work on their handwriting”

“I think that’s an S?” he hesitates, “and maybe the first letter is a G?”

“Is that an M?”

“Maybe?”

“Geums?” she blinks, “Gflms?”

“What’s not even a word” he smirks as her mouth struggles around the letters. “and that’s an E”

She spells it out, “G E –something, something – M.  And I think the S is an initial?  Maybe the last name?”

“The middle letter looks like an M... or an N?”

“N” she confirms with a nod. “that’s an I”

“Genim?” Derek tries the name and it instantly feels right.  A smile settles across his lips.

That’s their name.

His wolf purrs happily because it has taken eighteen years and getting his family killed to finally discover the name of his promised.  The person he’s _destined_ to be with.  Or, as Werewolves call it – Mate.

“Genim S.” He repeats

“That’s a really fucking weird name” Laura snorts, turning back to the movie.

“Yeah, it is” he nods.

 

\-----

 

He’s twenty-three when he moves back to Beacon Hills to find his sister dead.  Then he gets involved with a bunch of stupid high school kids and kills his Uncle.  Soon after, he turns Jackson (big mistake) and Isaac, Erica and Boyd join his Pack too.  Fighting Jackson was a massive pain in the ass.

It isn’t long after Jackson returns to a regular Werewolf that Derek turns Twenty-four, but without Laura there to watch The Lion King with, Derek just sits in the dark.

 

\-----

 

Slowly, the members of the Pack begin to turn eighteen and their Soul-Marks appear in the handwriting of their promised.

Jackson’s birthday is first and predictably his Soul-Mark reads Lydia Martin, in curly twists of twisting which have the i’s dotted with hearts.

There is also little shock when Boyd’s reads Erica R.

Allison is next and there is a collective groan when she comes into school with Scott McCall written in what is probably the worst handwriting Derek has ever seen (including every five year old in the world and his own Soul-Mark).

Next is Lydia and her Mark matches Jackson’s.

Then Scott matches Allison.

What is probably the biggest shock is when Danny awkwardly knocks on the door to the Loft during one of their meetings, (Derek had no idea how Danny found this place but he remembers Stiles calling the boy in because he’s a ‘computer genius’, which probably explains it all.)  He quietly produces his wrist to show Isaac Lahey tattooed on the skin in clear, precise letters.  The two of them disappeared sometime during the night.

Derek envies them all.

They’d all found their Soulmate instantly while he’s been waiting six long years and he still has absolutely no idea who ‘Genim S’ is. 

Isaac turns eighteen a month later and Erica three weeks after him.

 

\-----

 

It isn’t until they’re all sat around the Loft one evening after a particularly hard training session that something occurs to Derek.  He only really thinks about it because as soon as they’d sat down, everyone magnate to their promised and they’d immediately because wrapped up in each other.

Sickening really.  He wants that.

But what was _really_ weird was that Stiles had become super uncomfortable, the scent of sadness pouring off of him as he stared at them.  He’d left quickly afterwards.

Derek nudges his foot against Scott’s calf to capture his attention.

“Has Stiles turned eighteen yet?” he asks.

Everyone stops, staring at Scott expectantly as he rubs the back of his neck, thinking intensely

“Um... yeah...” he says eventually.

“So, he’s got his Soul-Mark?” Lydia asks, “why hasn’t he spoken about it?”

“Does he even know who it is?” Jackson asks

Erica scoffs, “We don’t even know if he has a mark.  He hasn’t spoken about it”

“People don’t _get_ marks?” Scott blinks, his puppy dog eyes looking scared.

“It’s been known to happen,” Derek sighs

“I’ll ask him about it tomorrow” Scott says decisively and that puts an end to the conversation.

 

\-----

 

As it happens, Scott decides to ask Stiles during one of their training sessions on a Saturday morning.  They’re all at the Hale house, which is slowly being re-built, _very slowly_ ; they mostly work on weekends and school holidays.

The humans are sat on the decking, Allison and Lydia sunbathing while Danny plays on his tablet and Stiles plays Temple Run on his cell.  The wolves are wrestling on the grass in a patch of sunlight which has filtered through the trees, Scott kicks Jackson off of him and puts himself on timeout to get a bottle of water.

He chugs it and throws the bottle into the bin (aka, a big black trash bag) before turning to Stiles.

“Stiles, do you have a Soul-Mark?” he asks bluntly.

He doesn’t even falter in replying, “Yes”

“What does it say?”

“It says ‘none of your damn business’” he grits out, shoulders stiff and eyes locked onto the screen before him although he’s already lost and he’s looking at a large ‘GAME OVER’ sign.

“Do you know who it is?”

“Leave it, Scott”

Scott casts around a confused look, getting your Soul-Mark is a really _big deal_ and he (along with everyone else) doesn’t quite understand _why_ Stiles is being so defensive about it.  Having a Soul-Bond is amazing because when the bond is finally sealed, each pair has an insight into their Mates head; their emotions, their health and in some exceptional cases, their thoughts.  Why wouldn’t Stiles want that?

“Do you know who it is?” Allison asks, leaning over to try and catch a look at Stiles’ wrist but it’s covered in a large, neutral coloured plaster.

“No”

It’s a lie.  Derek frowns, smelling the sadness and anger Stiles is projecting.

“Why did you just lie?” Scott asks, completely oblivious to his friend’s discomfort.

“Because I clearly don’t want to talk about it” he says through clenched teeth.  “It’s really none of your business, okay?”

“Just tell me... is it a boy or a girl”

“Will you leave it if I tell you?”

“Yes”

“It’s a guy”

And those three words put a solid end to that conversation.

 

\-----

 

Nobody mentions Stiles’ mark for two weeks although they’re all hoping to catch a glimpse of it but Stiles always has the Soul-Mark covered with a large plaster and he’s taken to wearing a watch over it as well.

It’s hard for Scott especially because he and Stiles have always shared everything so for the human to keep something so significant as a Soul-Bond from him is like Stiles is telling him they’re not friends anymore.  Saying that, Derek can also see that Stiles’ secret is _killing_ Lydia but only because she likes to know everything so not knowing is torture (Derek files that away for later use).

So, nobody mentions Stiles’ mark for two, long and painful weeks.

It’s another Saturday and they’re working on the house.  Derek says ‘working’ but really, Isaac, Danny and Scott are having a paint fight, Lydia, Erica and Allison are working on their tans again while Jackson, Boyd and Derek tear out the north-facing wall.

Stiles is sat in the back garden, using a hot glue gun to permanently fix together tables and chairs in the hopes that the extra support will allow them not to be destroyed in what Stiles calls ‘A Werewolf Battle Royale’.

Derek growls at three of them to stop their paint fight before he makes them run suicides and they instantly stop, going back to painting the walls in the newly remodelled kitchen a pale grey.  He and Boyd work together to remove one of the supporting beams and they throw it out of the way, using the now-sagging ceiling as a new starting point.

“Motherfucker!” Stiles yells from the back garden, cradling his hand.

Derek sighs, leaving Jackson and Boyd to their work, “What have you done _now_ ” he sighs in aspiration before this kid is surrounded by Werewolves and he’s in more danger from himself.

Stiles glances up at him and frowns, instantly turning back to his hand and starting to peel off lumps of dried glue from his palm, pulling sections of skin with it to reveal red burns.

“Did you _really_ hot-glue gun yourself?” he shakes his head in disbelief, “I gave you this job thinking that you’d be okay but clearly I was wrong”

“I get it, Derek” he grumbles and the Alpha can’t help but notice the difference in him.  Stiles would usually shoot back an unkind comment about how Derek was usually wrong so he should be used to it but he just frowns more and carries on ruthlessly ripping off the sections of glue-y skin.

“Jesus, just stop” Derek cringes, watching as blood starts to fill Stiles’ hand and drip onto the grass because he’s being seriously violent about this and he’s causing himself more damage.

Stiles doesn’t stop.

In fact, he seems to start pulling skin off that doesn’t even have any glue on it.  Derek walks towards him, bending as he reaches out to stop Stiles’ fingers from tearing his palm to pieces.  The teen flinches back, recoiling from Derek’s hand like the Alpha is going to hurt him.

“Stiles, what the hell is wrong with you?” he asks

“N-Nothing” he says, scrambling to his feet.  “I’m going home”

“Really?  You’re going to drive with a hand like that?” Derek snorts, rolling his eyes.  “I can drive you”

“No!”

Silence.

Stiles takes a deep breath.

“No, just... just... I’ll be fine”

And then he flees back to the Jeep, reversing out of his parking spot and not even bothering to turn around as he just reverses his way down the entire track towards the road.

 

\-----

 

No one sees Stiles for ten days.  He’s not picking up his phone or answering texts, no one is answering when they go to the door (apparently there isn’t any heartbeats in the house unless the Sheriff is home anyway), Danny says his computer hasn’t even been turned on and he’s not in School.   They’re all starting to get worried.

Ms. McCall says that Stiles went to the ER and saw her straight after leaving the house that afternoon, she’d cleaned and wrapped his hand up before sending him off.  Scott had tried to corner the Sheriff at work but he’d refused to tell the boy anything and had then threatened to get him thrown off the property if he didn’t leave.

So the question was, where was Stiles?

Erica joked that he’d finally lost it and he’s in a mental hospital somewhere (something that Jackson found hilarious while Scott tried to rip her throat out).  It’s on the eleventh day that Stiles returns.

School just let out and Derek is there to pick up ‘the terrible triplets’ (another one of Stiles’ names) as the students all file out.  He sees Scott leave the building with Allison, Isaac and Danny while Erica and Boyd chat to Lydia as she waits for Jackson.

They all stop talking at once as a familiar backfiring engine rolls into the parking lot.  Stiles jumps out, wearing jeans and a hoodie but he looks wrong; pale and sickly with black bags under his eyes as he shakes.

Scott runs up to him, “Dude! Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!”

“Away,” he shrugs, “needed a break”

“How are you?”

“Fine,”

“You’re shaking” Scott retorts

“Out of Adderall” he shrugs again

“How’s your hand?”

“Fine”

“Are you back now?  Are you coming to school again?”

“No”

Scott blinks his big doe eyes but Stiles’ face remains blank, “Why not?  Where are you going?”

“I’m collecting some work and leaving again”

“Where?”

“Away”

Erica exchanges worried looks with Lydia as Stiles steps around Scott and heads for the doors.

“Is this about your Soul-Bond?” Scott calls out and Stiles stops, he’d probably be dead still if it wasn’t for the fact that his body is vibrating.

“It doesn’t matter” Stiles mutters, mostly to himself but his Werewolf hearing picks it up.

“Doesn’t matter?  Stiles, this guy is your _destiny_.  Soul-Bonds are for life, man”

“I know”

“Then why are you fighting it so hard?”

“I’m not fighting, that’s the problem.” He sighs, “you wouldn’t understand”

“You’re right, I don’t understand because you won’t explain a _thing_ to me.  We’re supposed to be best friends and you won’t even tell me what your Soul-Mark says.  What the hell, Stiles?  I thought we were closer than that”

“We are,” he rubs a hand down his tired face and Derek watches on as Stiles seems to age before his eyes.

“Are we?”

“Yes, I want to tell you about it, I do.  But I _can’t_.”

“That’s bullshit, I tell you everything, even the bad shit.  You know me better than I do and you’re not letting me in on this?  Is it because I know him?  Are you embarrassed?”

“No, I’m not embarrassed!” he scoffs.

“Then what?”

“This isn’t about you, Scott”

“Is it Greenburg?  Is that why you won’t tell me?”

“No it’s no –”

Scott cuts him off, “Is it someone else’s mate?  Because you can tell me that, I’ll help you but I need you to talk to me.  I don’t like you keeping this a secret.  It’s such a big de –”

“HE HATES ME” Stiles yells abruptly, stopping the stream of word vomit that was leaving Scott’s mouth.  The teen deflates, “he’s my promised and he fucking hates me.  Like, it’s not even mild dislike, it’s full on Batman vs. Joker levels of hate”

Stiles looks absolutely _wrecked_.  His hands are running frantically through his long hair and Derek doesn’t blame him because not _knowing_ who your promised is feels bad enough but Stiles _knows_ who he has and he knows that it’s a dead end.  That’s worse than not knowing.

“I left because I can’t stand to look at him every day because it fucking _hurts_ , Scott” his voice cracks.  “I’ve been in Nevada with my Aunt and Uncle but th –”

Scott walks forward and wraps his arms around the teen tightly, allowing Stiles to curl into his chest and breathe heavily.  Lydia gently rubs his back as Isaac pets his hair, they all mutter how they’re sorry and that they’re there for him, even Jackson pats him on the shoulder and says ‘sucks to be you’ (which, in Jackson language is the equivalent to a hug).  They soon start backing off, retreating to their cars and Stiles stands straight.

“I’m gunna go” he coughs to clear the lump in his throat, “I’ll be home for tonight and I’m leaving again tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“Can’t you stay?”

Stiles just shakes his head and walks into the school.

 

\-----

 

Derek doesn’t really _like_ the plan (aptly names ‘Operation: Make Stiles Feel Better’) but he gets dragged along, it’s nearly three am when Scott slides Stiles’ window open and crawls in.  Stiles is in his bed, cocooned in the duvet with a little tuft of brown hair stuck out the top; Scott can’t help but laugh because he looks like a Stiles-Burrito.

He shakes him, “Stiles.  Hey, get your lazy ass out of bed”

Long streams of unintelligible noises leave his mouth before he nuzzles back into his pillow and asks who’s dying.

“No one, just get up” he says, thankful of the fact that the Sheriff is on a night shift.

Stiles slowly untangles himself and sits up, leaning over to turn on his light.  He looks tired and grumpy and then confused when he looks at his clock.

“It’s 3am, why are you waking me if no one is dying?”

“Because it’s a surprise, c’mon!”

“Does it involve getting out of my bed?”

“Yes, come on!” he insists, motioning for the window.

“Annnnnnnnd, nope.” He says, flopping back down onto his pillow, “it can wait ‘til morning”

“No it can’t,” he whines, leaning over to grab Stiles’ hand to forcefully remove him from the bed.  He tugs on it a few times before looking down to brace his feet against the bed when his eyes catch Stiles’ wrist.

He throws Stiles’ hand back at him like he’s been burnt.  “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!”

The human is awake now.  His other hand clamping firmly over the writing on his wrist. “Scott, don’t freak out!”

“HOW CAN I NOT FREAK OUT?  HAVE YOU NOT SEEN WHAT’S WRITTEN?” he throws his arms out wide and knocks the stereo from Stiles’ shelf.

“Of course I have” he snaps, “I’m not fucking retarded, okay?”

“YOUR SOULMATE IS – muftmfuuusffffft”

Stiles had leaped across the room and clamped his hand firmly over Scott’s mouth to stop the words escaping.  “Don’t tell him,” he begs, “he doesn’t know my real name and I’d like to keep it that way.  He doesn’t like me and I’m not going to put pressure on him _too_ like me just because of a stupid name on my wrist, okay?”

He slowly takes his hand down, “But doesn’t he have a _right_ to know?”

“I was going to tell him and then he told me some harsh things so I decided not too...” he frowns.

Realisation hits Scott in the face and he lowers his voice to a complete whisper to avoid being overheard.  “Is that why you went a bit crazy over your hand?” he asks, “because of how mean he was being?  Was it like when we were little and you’d stick a fork in your leg to focus your attention?”

“Sort of...” he sighs, “what he was saying hurt and all I could think of was getting that glue off my hands and every time he said something harsh, it felt like someone was pushing a knife into my chest.”

“I’m sorry, Stiles”

“See why I can’t stay?”

“Not really but if you’ll be happier in Nevada...”

“Happier isn’t the word, more like ‘I don’t have to see him every day and live with the constant reminder that he’s meant to be with me but he hates my guts’” Stiles yawns, “Promise you won’t tell him?”

“’Course, buddy” Scott smiles gently, “go back to bed, we can do this in the morning... without him”

“Thanks,” Stiles says.  The exchange a brief hug before Scott leaves and Stiles gets back into the warmth of his bed.

 

\-----

 

Derek wants to punch Scott when he falls out of Stiles’ window and says that they can all go home.  Even the humans had heard him yell but he was pointedly not answering the questions about what had happened and why ‘Operation: Make Stiles Feel Better’ was no longer underway.

“He needs to go” Scott says with finality and gets into his car, jaw tight as he grips the steering wheel.

Allison sighs and gives Lydia a kiss on the cheek, “I’ll text you later” she mumbles as she gets into the car and gently loosens Scott’s dead grip because it’s his Mom’s car and she’d be pissed if there were finger prints in her steering wheel.  They leave and they all slowly filter back to the cars and they wait as Danny and Isaac say goodbye because they’re going in separate cars.

When Isaac finally gets in, he closes the door and they drive back in silence.

 

\-----

 

It’s the next morning and ‘The Terrible Triplets’ are sat around the Loft eating breakfast.  Derek is channel flicking while he eats his toast, Erica is texting on her phone while Boyd and Isaac continue their everlasting ‘Thor vs. Iron Man’ argument.

Derek has just settled on an early NCIS: Los Angeles episode when Isaac turns to him.

“What does it feel like; having a Soul-Bond but not knowing _who_ it is?” he asks, eyes wide as if he’s hoping Derek won’t yell at him or make him leave.

“It... It’s like you’re missing a part of yourself.” He replies eventually as he watches the TV, “like when someone close dies and you feel empty because you know you’re never going to see that person again.  Except... except you’ve never met them.  It’s very confusing to explain”

“I’d rather not know who my Soul-Mate was than know that they hate me...” Erica says, “I can see why Stiles is so torn up”

“I don’t see how someone could turn down the Soul-Bond though, what do you even say?  ‘I’m sorry we’re destined to be together but I really don’t like you’” Isaac shakes his head.

“Scott told Allison who told Lydia who is telling me that Scott found out what Stiles’ Soul-Mark says.” Erica says, her eyes looking up but her fingers still tapping the screen of her phone, Derek will never understand how she does that.  “It’s really freaked Scott out”

“That would explain his bitch-fit last night” Derek nods, rolling his eyes because seriously, the NCIS agents are highly trained, why can’t they ever shoot their target?

Erica sits up suddenly, staring at her phone is disbelief “Stiles just told Lydia he’s filling in his school transfer forms today”

Isaac whines softly, “He’s _moving_ there? I thought he was just getting some space?”

“Call Danny.” Erica growls, getting to her feet, “get him to get into Stiles’ school records and add some shit that’ll buy us some time!”

Derek has never seen two people simultaneously make calls, finish their breakfast and get dressed; excluding Erica who decides that Boyd and Isaac can deal with early drama because she needs to curl her hair and ‘looking this good takes time’.  The two boys gather by the lounge again five minutes later, ready for school and apparently, stopping Stiles from transferring.

“Danny’s computer is broken” Isaac sighs, “we need to give him a ride to school so he can get into Stiles’ record”

He gives Derek the Puppy-Dog eyes and the Alpha sighs, “Take the SUV”

Boyd looks pleased and goes to get the keys from the drawer but Isaac pouts, “Can’t we take the Camaro”

“No.” He deadpans.

They leave shortly after.

 

\-----

 

Derek has a shower and sits around, waiting for Erica to be ready so he can drive her to school but he knows he’s going to be waiting another twenty minutes when her phone rings.  He’s watching Top Gear USA when Erica jumps over the edge of the spiral staircase, landing on her feet (how she does that in heels, he’ll never know) and she stalks over to him, phone held to her ear.

She seizes his hand and tugs it up to her eye level, she’s staring at his Soul-Mark with an open mouth.

“Holy shit!” she yells into the receiver.

“What?” Derek asks, sitting up attentively.

Erica stares down at him in shock, listening to whoever is talking on the phone.  “And you’re _sure_?”

“ _What_!?” he growls, growing impatient.

She’s still holding the phone to her ear when she speaks, “Derek... did you ever look up the name Genim?”

He rolls his eyes, “Of course I did, its Polish”

“Do you know what else is a Polish name?”

Derek raises his eyebrows.

“ _Stilinski_ ”

Her words hit like a wrecking ball to the chest.  He feels the ground fall from beneath his feet and the air leave his lungs.

Genim... Stilinski?

It couldn’t be.  He knew that Stiles was a nickname because his real name was humiliating but he’d never even thought... but that means Stiles has his name on his wrist.  Stiles knows and – and Stiles thinks he hates him?

Erica slaps him in the face.

“Snap out of it!” she says angrily, “You need to get down to the school.  Danny has crashed the system and they’re stalling.”

He’s still frozen in his chair, claws stuck into the fabric.

She slaps him again, “MOVE YOUR ASS!”

Derek doesn’t really get given a chance to move because Erica is dragging him out of the Loft by the front of his shirt, grabbing her handbag as she goes.

 

\-----

 

They drive _way_ over the speed limit but Derek is really beyond caring and Erica is yelling at him to drive faster.  They pull into the school parking lot and they don’t even bother looking for a parking space; Derek just filters through the students and the other cars until he pulls up right on the sidewalk in front of the school.

The rest of the Pack is there, Isaac defensively stood in front of Danny as Stiles yells at him.  Other students are looking at them and muttering about how ‘Stilinski finally lost it completely’, but the Pack are looking around hopelessly.

“FIX IT NOW!” Stiles finishes his rant. “You can’t just crash the entire school system to stop me leaving!”

“I can and I did.” Danny says, trying to step around the Werewolf but Isaac is having none of it, “I’m not letting you just _leave_ Stiles”

“You don’t understand!” he rages, twisting a hand into his hair and pulling on it sharply.

“I do!” Danny says, “I got into your record before I shut it down Stiles”

Stiles’ entire body goes tense and his arms fall to his sides, “You didn’t...”

“He did” Derek says quietly, slamming the door to the Camaro as he stalks forward.  “Show me your wrist”

“Der–” his voice cracks and the smell of helplessness is pouring off of him.

Derek can’t help himself as he comes up behind the younger boy, standing back-to-chest as reaches around his body to bring Stiles’ hand up and gently peels back the plaster.

_Derek Hale_

It’s his name. In his writing.  On his Soul-Mate’s wrist.

He slowly turns his own hand over to hold his own wrist to that they’re next to each other.  A whine escapes his throat as he buries his face into the back of Stiles’ neck, inhaling deeply.

 _Mate_.

“Genim” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.  “How could you not tell me?”

“How could I tell you?” Stiles whispers back, his body is shaking and he’s made no attempt to return Derek’s affection but he’s not running from it either.  “I wanted you to love me because you wanted to... not because you were forced too”

“How long have you known?”

“Since you tried to make me cut off your arm”

Derek breathes him in again, mouthing at the pale skin.  “You should have told me”

“Why?” Stiles asks, breaking himself from Derek’s grip and turning to face him, completely oblivious to their audience, “you hate me, I refuse to have some stupid mark _force_ you to like me”

“I don’t hate you” he says, “I never hated you”

“So what, now you’ve seen my Soul-Mark, we’re going to ride off into the sunset?” he snorts, “you know as well as I do that life _doesn’t_ work like that, Derek.”

“I never hated you.” He repeats, “I _liked_ you but your name wasn’t Genim so I couldn’t be with you.  You weren’t my Soul-Mate but – but you _are_ ”

He reaches forward again and places his hand onto Stiles’ jaw; cupping it gently.

“And if you leave then I’ll follow you.  I’ve waited six years for you and I’ve got you, Stiles.  And it’s _you_ , it’s always been _you_ and I – I –”

He doesn’t know what else to do so he just puts his other hand on Stiles’ face and hauls him forward, tilting his head in one swift movement and he presses their lips together.  Stiles doesn’t respond and Derek’s stomach bottoms but then arms are wrapping around his neck and Stiles pushes back.

He can feel the Soul-Bond forming, feel himself becoming more attuned to Stiles; he’s relieved and happy and he can feel Derek too.  He can feel that Stiles is hungry because he skipped breakfast and that he’s tired from not sleeping properly.  Derek is getting flashes; memories.

**Stiles’ Mother playing with him in the park.**

**Stiles’ Mother in a hospital bed and he’s watching her die.**

**The funeral.**

**Ms McCall making him pasta.**

**The first time he saw Derek.**

**Scott turning in the locker room.**

**Seeing his name on Derek’s wrist.**

**Peter offering him the bite.**

**Watching Derek become the Alpha.**

**Isaac, Erica and Boyd getting turned.**

**Stiles being paralyzed.**

**The pool.**

**Gerard Argent beating the crap out of him.**

**Watching Lydia return Jackson to his Werewolf state.**

**Everyone turning Eighteen, discovering their marks.**

**Stiles seeing his own Soul-Mark.**

**Derek yelling at him for hot-glue gunning himself.**

**The ER.**

**Nevada.**

**Scott seeing his Soul-Mark.**

**Danny crashing the school system.**

Stiles pulls away first, his hand gripping Derek’s hair as he pushes their foreheads together to breathe.

“Your family” he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

It takes him a moment to realise that Stiles had seen his memories too, probably only brief flashes and a few words.  Stiles has seen the worst moments of his life, as if he were a TV show and Stiles just watched the ‘previously on Derek Hale’ highlights.

“You look like your Dad,” Stiles continues, “but Laura and Cora look like your Mom”

“You have your Mom’s eyes” he replies and the teen grins, “I swear, if you leave then I will drag your ass back here”

Stiles laughs and kisses him again, holding his finger up when Scott whines that they’re disgusting.

 

\-----

 

Derek rings the doorbell and then listens as Stiles slips down the stairs in his rush to answer the door.  He pulls the Alpha in immediately and leans up to kiss him, hands curling into his leather jacket to steady himself.

“Mm, hello” Stiles grins when he pulls away. “you look handsome today”

Derek looks down, “I look like I always do?” he raises an eyebrow.

“And you always look handsome” he laughs.

“You’re so broken” he rolls his eyes, “I’ll keep you”

He bends down to kiss him again, sucking gently on the teen’s bottom lip, making him groan.

Stiles’ Dad clears his throat from the doorway to the kitchen, looking (for lack of a better word) scandalized.  “Boys, if you’re going to do that through the game, then go upstairs” he mutters.

“Game first, upstairs later” Stiles says, using his grip on Derek’s jacket to tug him into the lounge.

He pulls them down on the sofa and curls himself into the Alpha’s side as the Sheriff turns the volume up on the Mets vs. Yankees game.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I drew out all the names that they've got on their wrists for a visual representation. See it here > http://paigerhiann.tumblr.com/image/63220435117
> 
> Comments would be greatly appreciated! I like getting feed back (:


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